


A Remarkably Domestic Morning in the Gallagher-Milkovich Household

by Masterless



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Fluffy and kind of sickening, Gallavich, I'm sorry if this ins't a good representation of bipolar disorder, Ian is mostly balanced on his meds, M/M, a little suggestive in the beginning but nothing comes of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 15:31:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3697511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterless/pseuds/Masterless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was different from the other mornings Mickey had woken up to in his house all those years ago. He liked the difference, mainly because he was being held. He was being held in place by a strong freckled arm and a broad hand on his, a leg thrown over his hips, and a forehead pressed against the back of his neck."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Remarkably Domestic Morning in the Gallagher-Milkovich Household

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if there are any spelling/grammar mistakes in this, please point them out and I will do my best to correct them!

Milkovich

 

It was different from the other mornings Mickey had woken up to in his house all those years ago. He liked the difference, mainly because he was being held. He was being held in place by a strong freckled arm and a broad hand on his, a leg thrown over his hips, and a forehead pressed against the back of his neck. The warmth of his partner pressed against his back was enough to lull Mickey back to sleep, but he felt the ginger giant stir behind him. Turning over in his cage of limbs was easier than Mickey would have suspected, and Mickey watched as Ian’s emerald eyes opened blearily, smiling widely when he saw Mickey.  
“Morning,” Ian croaked, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Mickey’s lips. Well, he tried to kiss Mickey’s lips, but miscalculated and ended up kissing his chin.  
“Morning to you, too,” Mickey chuckled, taking hold of Ian’s chin softly and kissing him properly. “There you go, Army.”  
“I love you,” Ian said.  
“I love you, too,” Mickey mumbled. “But I don’t love your morning breath.” He sat up, stretched, and got up, walking in the direction of the bathroom. “Brush your teeth before you want to get any action.”  
“But why?” Ian whined, fumbling to follow his boyfriend into the one bathroom in the house.  
Mickey was stood at the toilet, relieving his bladder, and Ian started to brush his teeth vigorously. Mickey flushed, and went to wash his hands, hip jutting out to push Ian away from the sink. He smiled as Ian laughed. That was a sound he would never get tired of.  
“You brush that hard, ya ain’t gonna have any teeth left, Firecrotch.”  
“The better to give you a blow with.”  
“I ain’t accepting a hummer from you if you’re only gums. It’d be like fucking the elderly.” Mickey shook his head. “That’s your thing.”  
Ian pushed him lightheartedly, and rinsed his tooth brush. “There,” Ian said. “You happy now?”  
Mickey kissed Ian, smiling against his lips. “Yep.”  
“Ass hole” Ian chuckled. “Go make Yev some breakfast, I gotta take my pills.”  
Mickey placed a kiss on Ian’s shoulder, and left to go find his three year old son. “Yevgeny?”  
“Daddy!” Yevgeny ran from the living room of their apartment, holding up his arms to Mickey. “Up up, daddy!”  
“Oh, you want up, huh?” Mickey crouched in front of his son. “I don’t know if I can. I’m old and weak.”  
“Mama says you strong,” Yev said. “Tha’s why you and pappy wrestle all the time.”  
“Yes,” Ian said, waltzing into the room. “Wrestle.”  
“ ‘ey,” Mickey warned, picking Yev up. “No euphemisms in front of the small one.”  
“So, none in the presence of anyone shorter than me?”  
“Yeah, sure,” Mickey mumbled, not really listening as he struggled to put Yev in his high chair. “Whatever you want, man.”  
“Okay.” Ian came up behind him, placing his hands under the hem of Mickey’s shirt. “No euphemisms with anyone shorter than me.” He slowly started to grind his crotch against Mickey’s ass, making the smaller man tense. Ian leaned in and kissed the back of Mickey’s ear, latching onto the raven haired mans’ neck with his teeth. His voice came out in a breathy whisper. “I wanna fuck you on the kitchen counter. And on the floor, the table, the wall. Anywhere. You’re so fucking hot.”  
“Jesus, Ian,” Mickey snapped, but his voice was a little breathless, too. “I gotta feed Yev.”  
Ian pouted, but chuckled and let go of Mickey. “What can I say? I’m excited that my meds aren’t giving me erectile disfunction anymore. Can’t I celebrate?”  
Mickey turned to Ian, lips pursed, eyebrow raised. “We celebrated enough last night. It’s gonna take weeks for me to not feel like I’ve got a nine inch metal rod up my ass.”  
“You didn’t seem to be complaining last night.” Ian smirked and sat across from Yev, who was bouncing his heels against the cracked plastic high chair. “You seemed to like it a lot. You kept saying something about me being the best in the whole fucking world. The best in the solar system. The best in the univ-”  
Mickey took hold of Ian’s chin for the second time in the morning, scowling down at his gringer boyfriend. “Shut the fuck up about it in front of Yev. He’s old enough to remember everything we say, so I don’t really want him repe-”  
“Fuck!” Yev yelled, giggling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”  
“That’s right!” Ian said, pulling his face from Mickey’s grasp. “Fuck!”  
“You really gotta teach him that?” Mickey shook his head. “Fuck, Ian, he’s gonna sound like he’s a thug when he starts school.”  
Ian was looking at Mickey with a perplexed look on his face.  
“What?”  
“You honestly don’t know you’re doing it, do you?”  
“Doing what?”  
“Swearing all the time.”  
Mickey blushed. He had noticed, recently, that he swore a lot more than he thought he did. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
“Sure,” Ian nodded, spoon feeding Yev some Cheerios. “When’d Svetlana say she was taking him?”  
“Around ten.” Mickey yawned and stretched. “Why?”  
“Because we have about twenty minutes until ten and if he’s not fed, cleaned, and all packed up Svetlana’s gonna take away our time with him by telling the court we’re bad parents.” Ian pouted when Yev did, milk trailing down the small boys chin. “You made a mess of yourself, Yevy, yes you did.”  
“Shit,” Mickey said, launching to his feet and running to gather Yev’s things.  
Stuffing the clothes he wore into a small TMNT bag, Mickey walked back into the living room, finding Ian changing Yev into some day clothes. It was 9:49. They had ten minutes until Svetlana was there.  
“Come on, bud,” Mickey said, holding out his hand after Ian had finished clothing their son. “Let’s go brush your teeth.”  
Taking Yev into the bathroom, he propped the toddler up on the closed lid of the toilet, squeezing some of the child safe toothpaste onto the soft bristled brush. He helped his son brush with the minimum of foam finding its way onto Yev’s face. He pulled funny faces when Yev pulled an unhappy face. The young one really didn’t like brushing his teeth.  
“Mama doesn’t make me brush my teeth,” Yev mumbled.  
“That’s because your mother doesn’t care if you get cavities,” Mickey said, rinsing off the brush.  
“Wha’s that?”  
“Holes in your teeth.” Yev pulled a shocked face. “That’s right, buddy. And they hurt like a bitch.”  
They walked out into the living room again, right as the doorbell. Mickey opened it, frowning at Svetlana.  
“You’re early,” he said, letting her in from the biting winter wind.  
“By few minutes,” Svetlana snapped, reaching to pick up Yev. “I come get him few minutes early, so what?”  
“Nothing,” Mickey grumbled. “Bye buddy.” He smiled and kissed Yev’s cheek, poking him in the stomach to make the small boy laugh. He turned further into the house. “Ian! Yev’s going with Svet!”  
There was a muffled goodbye, and Svetlana was out the door with Yev and his things. Mickey walked back into the apartment, checking the living room for Ian. He found his redhead sprawled out on the sofa, face first in the cushions. He had pulled a blanket over himself, wrapping it around his long body. Mickey knelt beside the sofa, placing a hand on Ian’s shoulder, half expecting it to be shaken off. It wasn’t but Ian didn’t make any move to look at Mickey.  
“Bad day?” Mickey asked softly.  
“I didn’t want him to see me like this,” Ian mumbled into the pillow. “I’m sorry.”  
“Hey, hey,” Mickey soothed, nudged Ian up a little so he could sit with the gingers head in his lap. “It’s fine. You just have a calm day, alright?”  
He felt Ian nod, and a freckled hand reached out for the remote control, brandishing it almost like a knife as he handed it to Mickey. “Watch TV with me?”  
“Of course,” Mickey said. “Anything in particular?”  
“I heard about this zombie show on BBC America.”  
“BBC what now?”  
“BBC America,” Ian said, rubbing his face against Mickey’s thigh. “It’s an english channel that shows english shows.”  
“Oh,” Mickey said, raising an eyebrow. “Okay. What channel?”  
“241, I think,” Ian said.  
Mickey turned to the channel, just in time for the end of an episode of Doctor Who. Ian soon fell asleep in Mickey’s lap, while Mickey watched all of the episodes of In The Flesh.


End file.
